


Orbit

by scroobles



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, I have a lot of feelings, blupjeans, is this me projecting?, lupcretia? if you squint?, taako and luce are close, they're all close, this is me projecting.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 22:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scroobles/pseuds/scroobles
Summary: alternatively, 4 times Lucretia felt out of place and 1 time she finally belonged.





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> second time writing something and it's my gay ass projecting onto lucretia's gay ass,,,  
> please forgive any of my characterisation misgivings, i'm still easing myself into writing again <3

After spending a decade or two on a ship with exactly six other people, Lucretia liked to think that they’d become rather close. After all, with limited options for companionship one must make do. 

However Lucretia was observant by nature, and that, for better or worse, also applied to herself. 

These people had become her family, and yet she still felt as if she were a puzzle piece that just _didn’t fit_ , no matter which way you turned it. It nagged her, a constant grievance in the back of her mind that had her copying it down, in familiar lilting handwriting, within journal after journal. These particular volumes were kept below her bed, shoved to the wall and covered with a blanket. Her family _felt_ too much, and goodness knows what their reactions would be if they were to find her slightly obsessive scriptures.

Lucretia came to this particular conclusion - that she didn’t quite _fit,_ \- not all at once, but through a series of events over the course of a few decades. She copied them all down neatly, too, in the journals that were her job to keep; however these entries were brief, vague, and impersonal. Her actual recounts were written meticulously in those same journals, shoved under her bed. She read them sometimes. She didn’t know why. 

The first that really stood out to her, as she flicked back through the pages of Volume I, was what she liked to call the Magnus Incident. 

Well, the first of quite a few. 

It had been a close shave. Only a couple decades into their travels, the Starblaster crew had had a rather nasty time escaping the Hunger. They were not yet accustomed to the way death felt as it brushed past, not yet used to the soon-familiar feeling of pain, and then nothingness. 

Not yet.

They were relieved to be _alive_ , they were relieved to be _together_ ; and exuberant they were, for her family were not the quietest in their joy. Shouts echoed around the Starblaster’s main deck as the crew embraced each other, and Lucretia was content to stand to the side and watch. After all, was that not her job as their biographer? To merely observe, recount, and copy down. A witness, not a participant. 

Her musing was interrupted by a rather large man swooping her up into a rather large hug. 

And _Oh,_ Lucretia thought, and for the first time she understood why hugs stood for so much. Rather a lot of emotions were being conveyed through this particular one, as Magnus wrapped his arms around her smaller frame and squeezed, not unpleasantly so.

In fact, it _was_ rather pleasant, and Lucretia opened her mouth to comment on this, until it suddenly wasn’t. Subconsciously, Lucretia stiffened, and _of course_ Magnus noticed, and _of course_ he let go immediately. 

The room was no less quiet, but it may as well have been, and the young woman shrunk under Magnus’ gaze. It was not judgmental or accusing, but rather empathetic, and it made her want to crawl up into a ball and stare at her wall for an hour. 

“My bad, Luce.” Magnus smiled, after what had seemed like forever but in reality was probably seconds. Lucretia blinked, bewildered.

“Pardon?”

“I shouldnt’a grabbed you. Next time I’ll ask!” He clarified, placing a hand on her shoulder loosely, and when she didn’t duck away, squeezed. 

“We’ll make a hugger out of you yet!” 

Lucretia smiled in return, letting herself be pulled back into the merriment of her family’s relief-party. 

But the nagging had turned into a consistent hum, and her fingers itched for a pen.  
  


* * *

  
  


It was safe to say that for the rest of the decade, Lucretia remained rather withdrawn. And although this was a rather common occurrence for her, the Birds couldn’t help but notice something _off_ about their journal keeper. 

“I think we should have a game night.” Davenport announced rather suddenly one evening, once everyone had found themselves piled onto the Starblaster’s main deck. 

“I don’t know Cap’n’port, it doesn’t sound like the IPRE’s _mojo_ to stock any Fantasy Monopoly on-board.” Taako shrugged from his position on the floor, draped over Lup’s lap as he meticulously coated each fingernail with something that resembled nail polish, but smelt like a mixture of paint thinner and mangos. 

“Who needs board games when you’ve got _these_ babies!” Merle grinned, slapping down a pack of cards rather smugly.

“Merle, did you get scammed into buying a pack of cards?” Lup raised an eyebrow, and Barry muffled a laugh, which went - both figuratively and literally - over the dwarf’s head.

“What? No, of course not.” Merle scoffed, and Lucretia cleared her throat pointedly. She’d been there when he’d ventured into the closest town, only to be pulled aside by a street vender and practically bullied into purchasing a pack of cards. She politely decided to keep that particular story to her own, private journals. Merle could thank her later.

“Wonderful! I was the champion at Fantasy Poker back on our planet, _why_ -”

“We know, you’ve only said it 100 times.” Magnus snickered, and Davenport huffed. 

The seven ended up playing a _totally_ rigged card game invented by Merle and Davenport, and Magnus lost almost immediately. Taako managed to stay in for a little bit longer, but ultimately was left cardless, prompting him to return back to his nail painting. Barry and Lup were taken out shortly after, until only Lucretia, Merle, and Davenport remained.

“Lucy, you’re freakishly good at this.” Taako commented from where he’d shuffled over to observe the game better, and Lucretia felt herself instinctively shrink under the praise. 

“Her poker face is killer, and we should’ve known she’d memorise cards hella quickly.” Lup added, nudging the other woman with her toe, and wriggling her eyebrows. The twins did love to watch Lucretia squirm. 

The game dragged on quietly for a little while, until Merle’s shout broke the companionable silence. 

“ _Fuck!_ How the-” 

“Holy shit, Luce beat the old man! It’s one-v-one!” Taako cackled gleefully, sitting up straighter. Davenport chuckled under his breath as Merle let out a distraught wail. 

Ultimately, Lucretia lost by the skin of her teeth. The deck of the Starblaster was once again taken over by the cheers and claps of her family, and the very loud cries from Merle.

“I was jus’ going _easy_ on her,” The dwarf scowled, Taako’s body shaking with not-so-subtle glee. 

“Of course you were, dear.” Davenport patted his knee consolingly. 

And Lucretia couldn’t help but feel she’d ruined another moment, as she desperately copied it all down.  
  


* * *

  
  
Taako had always been rather standoffish. Lucretia supposed that that was just one of his many character traits, and resigned herself to a strictly professional relationship with the elf. No use antagonising someone who she was going to be spending decades, or even centuries with.

This plan changed drastically when Lucretia spent a year with him.

The Birds had landed on a particularly deserted planet; quite literally. It was a desert. There was nothing in sight, much less civilisation, and so began a year of Davenport-imposed ‘crew bonding’.

It was doing Taako’s head in.

And so he ended up with Lucretia, claiming that _“the rest of this crew’s doing my head in, and you’re the only one that ever shuts up, Luce.”_

She liked to think that they had become rather close. 

About half a decade later, the two were slumped in Taako’s kitchen aboard the Starblaster, way after midnight. They were notorious as the ship’s resident night-owls, and it was much more preferable to spend the night sipping tea and chatting than staring at a wall and rereading journals Lucretia had already read over thousands of times in the hopes that they’d make her feel any less empty. 

The two were talking about their lives before the Starblaster, before the mission, before the IPRE. Lucretia was copying it down absentmindedly, her handwriting looping through the pages of a starry bound journal, sipping elderflower tea as she nodded along to Taako’s stories. 

The oven dinged as Taako turned down the heat, opening the door and wafting the heat away as he took out a batch of cookies, setting them down on the counter to cool. Turning back around, he rested his head on his palms, reading over Lucretia’s shoulder. 

“Luce, you got this detail wrong.” Taako pointed out, tapping the sentence with a purple nail.

“Oh?” Lucretia decided to play along, raising an eyebrow. She and Taako both knew that she had yet to copy down anything imperfectly.

“You left out the 60-foot dragon that I felled with a well-aimed magic missile; the chronology is all wrong, bubelah. How would I have gotten back to Tilvan if the local farmer hadn’t been so _awed_ by my kick-ass bravery and amazing good looks and offered me a ride?” He replied indignantly, waving his wand (which had been taped up by her after he’d accidentally snapped it earlier in the cycle.) and firing out a couple sparks for effect. He’d always been a drama queen. 

“Where was Lup during all of this?” She shook her head, laughing. 

“Probably drinking a local under the table or gambling, who the fuck knows.” He replied airily, and Lucretia, no matter how well she knew him, could not tell if he was kidding or not. 

It was all going wonderfully, until the biographer in her took over.

“What about your family? You and Lup never mention them.” She asked absentmindedly, and didn’t notice Taako stiffening until the silence had stretched for longer than was comfortable. Her head snapped up. 

She’d seen him get like this before; stiff and withdrawn, you could practically see the walls slamming up in his mind. He’d always been comforted, though. The situation was always diffused quietly and efficiently, whether it was by an understanding squeeze from his sister, a hand placed gently on his back from Magnus or Barry, a well-timed pat from Merle of Davenport. 

This time, however, it was just Lucretia. The stool she was sitting upon clattered back as she stood up quickly, her journal slamming shut. Taako opened his mouth to say something, and Lucretia, fearing what it was, apologised profusely and all but sprinted through the sliding door. 

Lucretia was on one side of a locked door, Taako on the other, and it seemed like everyone had the key except her.  
  


* * *

  
  
The Legato Conservatory was an _experience._ This planet was a strange one, certainly, but Lucretia felt more comfortable _here_ than she had in a long time. 

Artists here submitted their works to a mountain, in the hopes that their work is deemed worthy enough to be spread throughout the land. In the hopes that this _“Light of Creation”_ in question was _their_ Light, the Birds were quick to take to a specific art form in the hopes that they’d get a chance to collect it.

Lup and Barry partnered up quite quickly, and Lucretia, feeling that she did not have _much_ artistic talent to bring to the table, settled for helping them prepare and practice instead. Well, ‘help’ was a rather lenient way of phrasing it; she spent her days sitting quietly in the back of the ostentatious music room, sketching whilst the two practiced. 

It had become a comfortable routine, something Lucretia valued, and she found herself looking forward to it most mornings. Sometimes, she’d arrive early enough to greet Lup and Barry, often with the former slinging an arm around the taller woman and planting a kiss on her cheek, whilst Barry offered her a companionable grin and a nod. It was nice. 

This particular day, however, Lucretia hadn’t arrived early. In fact, she’d arrived rather late, and so she stood outside the tall doors to listen to Lup and Barry play, not willing to interrupt the spell they were weaving just yet. The two had yet to play their full piece through to completion, and the day they were due to perform was fast approaching. Lucretia leant against a marble pillar, letting the melodic duet work its magic, the crescendo of the violin and piano washing over her pleasantly. Just before the piece was due to end, the young woman cracked the door open, the final note of the duet hanging in the air heavily. Perfectly.

She couldn’t have picked a worse time to peek in, really, because Lup and Barry were decisively _very_ happy to have gotten through the entire piece, so much so that they were currently interlocked in a rather tender embrace. Lucretia felt her face heat up as she stood, frozen, in her normal spot at the back of the music room. She cleared her throat. 

It was safe to say that their reactions were rather predictable.

“Luce!” Lup cried, untangling herself from Barry, seemingly unbothered that the other young woman had interrupted a clearly private exchange just moments ago. 

“You made it! Me and Barold were beginning to think you’d abandoned us for my dear brother or Maggie!” 

Barry, on the other hand, looked as if he were about to alight. Which was fitting, really, considering setting things on fire was Lup’s specialty.

“I-I.. Sorry. For interrupting, that is.” Lucretia managed to stutter out, still frozen with her journal clutched in her hands, raised in front of her as if it were a shield. 

“No biggie! I’m sure you can keep your mouth shut.” Lup beamed, winking exaggeratedly. Barry let out a rather pained noise, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. 

“No, really Lucretia. It’s alright. Just… maybe don’t put this in your journals just yet.” He managed to laugh despite his red face, and Lucretia forced herself to smile in return.

“Of course. It wasn’t something I should have seen, anyway.” She nodded, her cheeks flaming as she turned rather clumsily towards the door. Practice was nowhere near over, but she doubted she’d be able to stay in this room without melting into the floor with the potent combination self-consciousness and anxiety hanging over her head. 

Just before she was about to disappear through the door, Lup rushed forward and grabbed Lucretia by the hand.

“Hey, Lucy?”

“Mmm?”

“You… you are going to come and watch, right?” Lup tilted her head and smiled crookedly, a moment of vulnerability that was so rarely given by one of the twins. Lucretia felt herself smile involuntarily in return. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Lup.”

What she didn’t add is that, _Lup, the crowd is going to be so, so big. Just for you and Barry. One more or one less, nobody’s worried. Not even you._

Her family would be there. And so would she. And Lucretia, for some reason, suddenly felt very, very alone. 

It seemed that the puzzle that was her family didn’t need her piece, after all.  
  


* * *

  
  
The Birds were special in the sense that they seemed to orbit around each other. 

Per Davenport’s instruction, the crew were having ‘family bonding time’, lounging around the deck of the Starblaster. This planet had been rather quiet, and during their time here, the deck had become much homier. Taako and Lup took it upon themselves to transmutate more furniture, only resigning their new-found love of interior decorating when Magnus sulked about not having the opportunity to make furniture for himself. The twins instead switched their sights to decoration, and fairy lights had been strung up around the sterile walls of the ship, atrocious rugs criss-crossing the floor, and a variety of pillows and beanbags scattered around the deck. And of course, quite a lot of wooden furniture.

Lucretia acknowledged the fact that yes, this would all disappear once the cycle started again - there was no way they could maintain bodily contact with _everything_ adorning the deck - but she never mentioned it. The year had been quiet. Her family had been restless. Besides, they'd soon find away around it, she was sure.

It was Lup that brought it up, first, because of course it was. Magnus had given this long, nonsensical speech about found families, and how he was so glad that he’d found people to orbit around, and it was sweet, really. Just a little scattered. But perhaps that was just the writer in her. Lup had sat up from her position - her head on Barry’s lap, her legs draped over Taako - and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Y’know, famalam, really - don’t we all orbit around Luce?”

This was met with weighted silence as the other five adopted thoughtful expressions. Meanwhile, Lucretia was only _slightly_ having a nervous breakdown. 

Because really, _what?_ She’d spent the last _60 cycles_ feeling like a complete outsider; by no fault of anyone but herself. 

“What?” She finally said, trying to look nonchalant as she held her journal to her chest, almost protectively.

“Yeah, think about it! You’re just so… _you,_ Luce. You listen.” Lup had embarked on one of her affectionately-dubbed ‘Lup Rambles’ that occurred every now and again, and the elf’s familiar exaggerated gestures soothed Lucretia somewhat. Her eyes snapped back into focus once she’d realised she’d begun to space out, however, and missed a chunk of Lup’s rant. 

“You’re just like this constant steady presence, and honestly? We’d probably fall apart without you.” Lup had decisively concluded, slumping back into her previous position and beginning to pick at her fingernails. 

“Yeah, Lucy.” Taako shrugged from his position next to her - draped over the arm of the chair - nudging her in the thigh with a dainty foot. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed in the _60 years you’ve known all of us,_ but we’re kind of emotional wrecks around here. Comes with the job. But somehow you manage to deal with all of your own feelings and shit, write all of _ours_ down, and still listen to me whine about my sinking souffles on a biweekly basis.” He added, wrinkling his nose in feigned nonchalance. Lucretia’s throat felt dry.

“Look at that, Luce! You’re like a lil’ sun for all of us!” Magnus grinned from where he was nestled into a beanbag that was most definitely too small for him, a wooden duck cradled in his hands as he absentmindedly carved details into its wings. Lucretia, finally finding the ability to move her tongue, managed to retort.

“I rather think I’m more fitting of a moon. I’m much more content to orbit around you all.” She smiled awkwardly, flipping through the pages of her journal to occupy her fidgeting hands.

“Of course you _would_ say that, Little Miss Wallflower,” Taako let out a genuine snort, rolling his eyes in a way that Lucretia had come to recognise as affectionate. 

All of a sudden, she felt her eyes begin to mist over. Bringing her journal up to bury her face in it, she peeked over the cover to see Davenport, from his position next to Merle, sending her a small smile. She returned it.

Needless to say, the next cycle was a lot more eventful. Somehow, however, the crew managed to find the time to explore the small beachside town near to where they had landed.

The whole portrait thing was the twins idea, really. A memento of sorts. Last minute, spontaneous, and yet it became one of their - _her_ \- most prized possessions. 

"Abso _lutely_ not." Davenport shook his head when Lup presented the idea, an impromptu Fantasy PowerPoint Presentation at the ready and all. 

"Why _not_ Cap'n'port? Think of how team-bondy it would be." Taako groaned, gesturing towards the seaside painter who waved awkwardly. 

"Do we really have the time?" Davenport raised his eyebrows, but even the gnome could tell that it was going to be a hopeless case. Once the twins had made their minds up, they were rarely overruled. 

"Aw, what the hell, right?" Merle grinned, patting the gnome on the shoulder good-naturedly. The captain let out a long-suffering sigh, before turning to Lucretia.

"What do you think, Lucretia?" He asked the young woman, and Lucretia startled slightly.

"Oh, um, me. Right. I think a portrait would be a good way to remember this place by. After all, we have been putting in the effort to collect remnants of each of the cycles, right? Not just for ourselves but to document the, ah, societies and cultures of all the places we've visited-"

Lup grabbed her by the hand as Taako wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Magnus let out a loud whoop.

"C'mon, nerds, let's go get _painted_!" 

The portrait was to include all of them, a feat in itself. Placement was decided wordlessly, as most things were with her family nowadays, but Lucretia still felt herself hanging back, unsure of where she slotted in. Unsure of where she would fit. 

Until she was shoved forward by Lup, and Magnus wrapped an arm around her, and Taako grabbed her sleeve, and all was okay.

_All was okay._

**Author's Note:**

> _Lucretia never could bear to take that portrait down._
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> peep that regina spektor 'two birds' reference for brownie points  
> i tried to capture the whole 'feeling lonely but not alone' emotion? state of mind? but really it was just me drawing off of my own experiences and feelings, so i'm sorry if it doesn't reflect everyone's circumstance. if you related to it, however, i'm happy i managed to reflect at least a little bit of what you may be going through. you're not alone, that's what found family plots are for my dude <3
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> ~~if i wasn't so burnt out, i would've lengthened the scenario with taako, because their friendship is one of my favourite dynamics in taz and i seem to be one of the only people who thinks so?? a crime, really~~


End file.
